This blog is about Austen Lily—and all of her silliness, awesomeness, and occasional defiance. If you are already annoyed with my incessant picture posting, this blog is not for you. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
Austen Lily is now almost half way through her first year. She is trying to crawl, learning the art of smacking and hair pulling, and loving green beans and squash. She does not love fruits, car seats, or not being able to see her Mommy. Oh, and sleeping. She really hates sleeping.
For the past few weeks, her sleep patterns have been sporadic. For a little while, she slept 8-10 hour stretches and a total of about 12 hours nightly. That was glorious. But more often than not, she is waking every hour or so. It seems to Chad and I that it is because she has become some proficient at rolling back and forth, that she often does it in her sleep—which scares her or leaves her trapped against the crib rail. So, she yells until one of us flips her backs over and reinserts her pacifier. The entire soothing process usually takes 30 seconds, but when it’s your 15th time doing the soothing—it can become somewhat bothersome.
The past three nights, Austen has upped the ante by refusing to be soothed by the usual flip and soothe. She wants to eat, sometimes twice a night, and just cuddle in general. Now, let me tell you something about this child. She does not cuddle. She wants to be at arm’s length, figuring out the world. I will never forget when I lovingly swaddled her when she was just a few days old, read y to lay her tenderly in her bassinet. She responded by thrashing about until she freed herself from the swaddle and screaming until I placed her on her tummy. So, there’s that.
This all brings me to “crying it out”. I have considered it. I have sort of tried it. I have done the five minute increments of letting her scream (Let’s get real, Austen does not cry. Crying is for babies. She screams like a two year old. Many of you may remember that her pediatrician thought he had the wrong room at her two month check up because her cry was so “adult”). The problem is that until this point Austen has been so “independent” (I recognize that this is a relative term for a five month old), that I feel like when she is crying for me at night it is because she genuinely needs something. I just can’t convince myself that she needs “tough love” at this point. I know this is a controversial topic and many people will disagree with me. Maybe I just need another week of no sleep to recognize the value of letting her CIO—only time will tell.
What I have come to realize about parenting is I seriously have no idea what I am doing and the fantastic advice I receive is only so helpful, as every baby is different. Luckily (or not so luckily), it seems that my baby and I have similar personalities and maybe this will serve me in figuring out her needs. Or possibly, I will be sentenced to an 18 year repayment for all of the times I promised to call my mom and didn’t, leaving her sleepless and worried. Ah, a feeling I know all too well these days. Sorry, Mom!!